“Is my dear Uncle Ben anywhere about?” called out the clear little voice.

“My word! if that aint little Diana,” said the man.  “Come here this minute, you little romp, and get on my knee.”

Diana flew up to him, climbed on his knee, put her arms round his neck, and kissed him.

“You’s sort o’ fond of me, I’m thinking,” she said.

“Yes, that I be, missy,” he answered; “you are the ’cutest little gal I ever seed, and you are fond of poor Uncle Ben, eh?”

“It all apends,” replied Diana.

“Now what do you mean by that, missy?”

“It all apends,” she repeated.

“Wife, can you understand her?” questioned the man.

“I think she means that it all depends, Ben.”

“Oh, depends—­on what now, my dear?”

“On whether you is good to my bwother or not.”

“Oh, is that all?  Well, I’ll be good to ’im.”

“He’s awfu’ fwightened of you.”

“Well, he needn’t be.  If you’ll manage him I won’t say a word.”

“Won’t you twuly?  Then I love you,” said Diana.  “Now, listen to me—­I has been a-talking to him.”

“That’s right, missy.  Have a sip of my stout, won’t you?”

“No; I don’t like it; it’s black, nasty stuff.  Put it away; I won’t touch it.  Well, now, listen to me, Uncle Ben.  It apends altogether on whether you is good to Orion to-morrow or not whether he wides well, or whether he wides badly, and what I think is this—­”

“Well, missy, you are a very wise little miss for your age.”

“What I think is this,” repeated Diana.  “Let Orion wide G’eased Lightning and let me wide Pole Star.”

“But you can do anything with Greased Lightning,” said the man.  “Why, the ’orse fairly loves you, and Pole Star’s a rare and wicious sort of beast.”

“I aren’t fwightened; that aren’t me,” said Diana, in her usual proud, confident tone.  “Orion isn’t to wide a wicious sort of beast.”

She slipped down from the man’s knees and stood before him.

“It aren’t me to be fwightened of any horse,” she said.  “I never was and I never will be.”

“I believe yer, miss,” said Uncle Ben, gazing at her with great admiration.

“But Orion he is—­he is awfu’ fwightened of Pole Star, and he sha’n’t wide him.  Now, G’eased Lightning, he’ll do anything for me, and so what I say is this—­let Orion wide him, and if he begins to dance about and get sort of fidgety, why, I’ll stwoke him down.  You know I could pwactice widing a little on Pole Star in the morning.”

“To be sure you could, missy.”

“Oh, my dear Ben,” said Aunt Sarah at that moment, “you are never a-going to let either of them little kids ride a ’orse like Pole Star?”

“You let me manage my own affairs,” said the man, scowling angrily.

“Well, I call it a shame,” answered the woman.

“Poor Aunt Sawah! you needn’t be fwightened,” said Diana.  “I is never fwightened; that aren’t me.  I’ll wide Pole Star, and Orion, he’ll wide G’eased Lightning, only—­now, Uncle Ben, is you listening?”